Double update. Read 74 first.

Bex and I stated our names for the record and then she gave me a gentle smile. "Abby, can you give me a brief run down of how that morning began and why you went to see Avery Hale in his office?"

"Mhmm. He'd taken me on as a client in New York and we had a meeting to discuss some potential jobs. He said that he had a few things that he wanted to discuss."

"And what happened when you arrived at his office? What was the atmosphere?"

"It was— normal," I nodded, focusing on her so that I could concentrate on what I was telling her. She had a round pair of retro glasses on and the ceiling lights reflected orbs in the lenses. "I went in, he was behind his desk, we talked about some previous photos that I'd done and then he mentioned the Victoria's Secret show and I remember being shocked but I also wanted the gig, a lot."

"Right," Bex smiled. "And at what point did he leave the desk?"

My shoulders lifted as I thought it over. "It wasn't long. We got through a few short sentences and then he stood up and went over to this inspiration board on the wall. At this stage, I was still in shock over the VS shoot but he told me to come and stand beside him. So I did."

"And there was still nothing uncomfortable about the situation?"

"No."

"Can you tell me what happened next?"

"Uh I expressed that I didn't think I'd meet the requirements for a runway. Height and figure, that sort of thing and he made an argument for plus size models believing the same thing," I paused and made sure that I had the events in order, of course, I was confident that I did, I'd thought about it over and over again since it happened. "So I asked if he really thought I could do it and he put his hand on my lower back and said that we could help each other out."

"Your lower back?"

"Yes."

"So was this the point where the atmosphere shifted?"

"Definitely."

"Can you please walk us through what happened next? And Abby, I know it's difficult to talk about, so please, take your time and go at your own pace."

She gave me a kind smile and I held her gaze for a moment until I looked past her at Flynn. He knew what happened. I'd told him in detail so I watched him while I spoke, somehow feeling less weight knowing that he'd heard it before. His expression was proud.

"I asked him what he was doing. I remember feeling panicked and scared because I had a feeling that I knew where it was going and I didn't want to be put in that position. He um— his hand moved to the front and he—"

"Sorry to interrupt," Bex said, but for the record, you will need to be specific. What does front mean?"

My face warmed up. "He— his hand ran along the outside of my pants on my— my vagina."

She nodded and looked apologetic but gestured for me to continue.

"He told me that if I did him a favour, he could help me. Because I wouldn't go far in the industry. He said that I was too short and too wide and visually ordinary. He kept repeating if I help him then he'll help me."

Bex nodded. "And in your own words, with as much detail as you're able to recall, cna you please describe what happened from that moment until you left Mr Hale's office."

I took a deep breath and continued watching Flynn. He gave me a nod of encouragement.

"He put his hands into my pants and I remember thinking that I wish I'd worn jeans. I told him that I appreciated the offer but I had a boyfriend so I couldn't. I was scared to seem hostile because I was worried about my career. He told me that it would be a secret and that my boyfriend would want to see me succeed—"

"And during this conversation he had his hand, where?"

"He was— he was stroking my— my clit and kissing my neck."

"Continue."

"I said that my boyfriend wouldn't want me to succeed like this and he said that for a girl like me, it was my only option. At that time he had pushed me over his desk and put his fingers inside of me."

My gaze moved lightening fast to mom and dad. Mom was wiping her face but dad had his head in his hands and his shoulders shook. If I watched him for a second longer, I was going to break the fuck down. I knew that this part would be hard, but it was so much harder than I realised.

"At what point were you able to get out of the room?"

I cleared my throat and focused again, doing my best to detach from the overwhelming emotion that was threatening to suffocate me.

"It's a blur but I remember being dazed with panic and thinking that if I didn't get out of there, he was going to rape me. So I aggressively pushed back and told him that I had somewhere to be, I was still scared of being hostile at that point. He made a move to grab me but I ran out of the office before he could."

Bex walked towards the box and put her hand on mine. "I'm so sorry that you had to go through that. No further questions your honour."

I'd made it through the easiest part, which was a frightening concept. But Bex warned me that Ron, Avery's representation, wouldn't be so gentle with his questioning. It might not have been fair to make assumptions but the pair were similar in appearance as well as smug attitude. He stood up, shoulders large and posture confident and we introduced ourselves.

"Miss Lahey, please, tell me again the events that led to you being my client's office that morning."

My fingers were twisted in my lap and I exhaled. "I had a meeting with him. He was representing me in New York and said that he had some potential business lined up."

"And you arrived on time?"

"Yes."

"Where was Mr Hale when you arrived in his office."

I furrowed my brows and recalled that Bex said some of his questions might seem stupid as an attempt to get me answering fast. I counted to three in my head before I answered.

"He was sitting behind his desk."

Ron ran a hand across his blonde goatie and nodded. "And miss Lahey, what were you wearing for this meeting?"

"Objection," Bex shot up out of her seat and the look that she pierced him with was so cold that if she'd have looked at me that way, I'd have cowered into a corner. Her tone was sharp. "Irrelevant."

The judge nodded. "Sustained."

Ron was completely unfazed. He carried on. "Miss Lahey, at what point in the meeting did Mr Hale stand up from his desk and present this so called board on the wall to you?"

"A minute or so. I'm not sure. We exchanged a few brief sentences and then he suggested the Victoria's Secret show and wandered over to the pin board on the wall."

"When he stood, was there any indication that things had shifted? Did you feel uncomfortable at all?"

"No."

"When did that change?"

"When he put his hand on my back and said that if I did him a favour, he'd do me one back."

"Describe that conversation for me."

My glance moved to Avery for a brief moment, he had his gaze cast down. Coward. "He said that I could walk the show and I expressed that I didn't think I met the requirements. He in turn argued the point for plus size models and I asked, could he really make it happen for me and that was when he touched my lower back and said that we could help each other out."

Ron paced in front of me. "So he offered you an incredible opportunity but you found it to come with suggestive conditions?"

"Yes."

"Did you express that you weren't interested?"

"I said that I had a boyfriend and he said that my boyfriend wouldn't know."

"So instead of stating that you didn't want to engage in sexual activities with him, you stated that your boyfriend wouldn't be pleased?"

I stammered. "Well— I guess. But—"

"Is it possible he could have received this information as something that you wanted to be kept quiet. Perhaps he thought you were telling him that this engagement needed to be kept private and you wanted him to assure you that it would?"

"Objection," Bex shouted. "Speculation."

"Sustained."

Ron didn't miss a beat. "You stated that Mr Hale was stroking your clit while he spoke of these possible job offers that he could assist in acquiring. Did you ask him to stop?"

I swear that I heard mom cursing. "No. But I did tell him no. I said no, I appreciate the offer."

"That was right before you used your boyfriend as an excuse for why you couldn't go through with it?"

My teeth ground. "Yes."

"So you said, no, I appreciate the offer but I have a boyfriend?"

"Yes."

Ron nodded as if I was an idiot. "And Miss Lahey can you please tell me how far Mr Hale went? Physically."

"He penetrated me with his fingers."

"Did he ever penetrate you with his penis?"

"No."

"Just his fingers?"

Bex said that his tone had the power to punch a powerful point, and she was right. With those words alone, "just his fingers?" I felt stupid. I knew that I wasn't, but I felt it. I felt like I had no right to be up here. It was just his fingers.

"Yes, he just inserted his fingers into my vagina without my permission," I shot back. He winced. It was barely obvious, but I saw the brief flinch in his brows.

"How long did that go on for?"

"I don't know. It was a blur. I was panicked."

"If you had to guess?"

"A minute?"

"Sixty seconds, that's a decent length of time to have someone performing sexual acts on you."

Bex shot up again. "Objection. Defendant is speculating without a reasonable point."

"Uh, I have one," Ron said with a raised finger. "Miss Lahey, is it possible that Mr Hale misinterpreted your willingness to go forward and engage in sexual activities with him on the promise that he could help you out?"

I stammered. "He never waited— he never asked."

"But you never objected or told him to stop? He was fingering you for a minute and not once did you tell him to stop. Is it possible that he just thought you were coy but willing to participate Miss Lahey?"

God, was that what happened? Dots danced in my vision.

"Objection your honour," Bex was almost shouting. "Are we in the dark ages?! No consent was given."

"Overruled."

Ron stood right in front of me now. "People engage in sexual activity without verbal consent all the time. If the body language suggested consent, is it possible that he misread the situation?"

What the hell?

"Objection," Bex shouted again and Ron almost rolled his eyes. "Speculation."

"Sustained."

"No further questions your honour," Ron smiled and walked his Italian leather shoes back to his table. I felt nauseous.

I was aware that the judge was speaking, allowing me to return to the seats but I sat there, breathing in and out for some time before I finally raised my head and looked at Ron and Hale. The two of them had their heads together, chatting, Ron looked pleased and something in me snapped.

How fucking dare he.

"May I say something?" I said to the judge. "Can I make a statement? Please?" 

Bex was staring at me, Ron had averted his attention this way and I looked over at mom, dad, Lucas and Max. All of them. All of them watching me with pride and support. I looked out at the faces of who I assumed were fellow assault survivors and I knew that I had words. Words that I needed to speak.

"I'll allow it," the judge gestured for me to go ahead, so I stood and I stood damn tall.

"When it first happened, I wasn't going to come forward. I wanted to move on and forget about it. Which, surprised me. Deep down, I didn't understand why I was so afraid to speak up.

"I'd always thought of myself as someone who would never be taken advantage of and if I was ever taken advantage of, I would raise hell in order to get justice. But nothing can really prepare you for the total terror that comes with sexual assault," my voice caught but I cleared my throat and with each word, the haze of adrenaline began to clear and I became louder.

"It's humiliating. It's degrading. It's shameful. It takes your dignity. Your strength. Your self esteem. It defiles you.

"It defiled me. It stripped me back until I was nothing but the darkest parts of myself, struggling to survive. I've never felt weaker than after Avery Hale—" my words caught again and I had to take a deep breath, I would not sugar coat this. "After he fingered me against my will. When he molested me. But it wasn't just the assault. It was the context. It was him telling me that this is what I have to be in order to chase what I want. I have to be ready to submit to a man if I want to climb the ladder of success. He made me feel like I was nothing without him. And I was nothing to him either. Because no one that cares about me, would ever hurt me like that.

I looked out at the women in the stand. Some were smiling. Some were sobbing. Some were standing, their postures strong and showing solidarity.

"Yeah, I wasn't raped to the same degree as some of these women. Some might think that I got off light compared to them. But the most intimate part of my body was violated, I was overpowered, I was touched when I didn't want to be touched and every voice that speaks up and says, this isn't right, is one step closer to gaining change. We all want the same thing, we all want justice for an event that changed who we are."

I heard a soft wail. I heard sobs and sniffles and I watched the girls as more of them stood up and nodded their heads in encouragement. My own face was damp with tears and my voice trembled but I'd never felt stronger.

"So I came here today, to stand beside the rest of the women in this courtroom, to stand for the women who couldn't be here. To stand for our future generations of women that need us to be the example. That need us to rise and to be loud and to be heard. The entire world needs to hear that we do not owe men anything.

"We don't owe them our time. We don't owe them a conversation. We don't owe them a thank you when they compliment our ass. We don't owe them a complacent nod when they abuse us in the work place. We don't owe them a second date. We don't owe them an explanation for why we don't want to give them our number. We don't owe them a photo just because they complimented our selfies and we do not, we do not, owe them our bodies. Ever. They aren't men's to take as they please.

"We owe it to ourselves and every other woman out there, to shout and demand respect. Because entitled men who think that we owe them something, that think that they can touch us because they 'did us a favour' are ruining lives. Ruining lives. We don't get to come out of this unscathed. If we survive, we wear those scars on our hearts. On our souls. On our minds. We heal, but damn it, we scar. We scar at the hands of selfish, entitled men who think we owe them something.

"It has to stop. Because this assault didn't just effect my body. It effected my family. My friends. My job. My mental health. It trickled like a virus into all corners of my life and that's so damn unfair. It's unfair that I live with that and he might walk a free man because, that's our justice system. It fails us. And it shouldn't. But it does. So I'm begging the judge, please don't let him walk a free man, myself and these women, will never be free again. Thank you."

Applause broke out, it was so loud that it startled me and for the first time in months, I did feel free. Free from demons that were wrapping their talons around my throat and silencing me from speaking, stopping me from eating. I felt worth something and more than that, I wanted to share that worth.

I wanted everyone who had ever suffered at the hands of some entitled bastard, to feel this sort of freedom. I wanted them to feel strong and beautiful. This sort of freedom could save lives and I needed my fellow sisters to stand with me and know that who they are does not begin and end with what they've been through. We're more than the demons that those attackers left us with. We wear the scars, but they don't wear us and mine will never wear me again.